16. Isabella
16
ISABELLA
I t feels counterintuitive to even indulge in the idea. But as I walk back to my apartment building, I can’t shake the feeling that no one is watching me.
After weeks of constantly looking over my shoulder, of noticing patterns in license plates parked outside my home or my favorite coffee spot. Even those darting movements in the corner of my eye if I turn around too quickly are gone.
All of it is gone.
And I should be very, very happy about this. Ecstatic even. If the Guild has finally backed down, that means that I actually start living my life again as normal, without looking over my shoulder every five minutes.
This is absolutely brilliant news.
Truly.
I can’t imagine anything better.
Except that means he’s not watching me anymore.
Before I go to bed, I look out my window at the street below. Cars stop and start along the road, pedestrians march, stumble, or amble on by.
None of them linger. one of them look up.
In a moment of insanity—to test a theory, I tell myself—I write a simple note and place it in my window.
“Are you still there?”
When I wake, the note remains, and nothing is amiss.
I go about my day as usual. New gym, new coffee shop. No one follows me. I return home that evening, and the note is still there, and my apartment hasn’t been touched.
My fingers twitch at the sight. With one stride, I snatch the note and tear it to pieces.
I don’t bother dressing up for the casino. My brother isn’t hosting a meeting, and I’m in no mood to stick around after and play poker bait.
So, when I push open the second staff-only door and make my way up to Leon’s office, I’m in jeans and a simple tee.
The surprise on his face is evident when he looks up from his desk after I knock on the door. “Issy! I barely recognized you.”
“The Guild has stopped following me around everywhere.”
Leon sighs as he stands up, his shirt stretching over his too-large pecks. “Hello sister. It’s good to see you again, too. I hope you had a nice time while I was away.”
I roll my eyes but go to embrace him anyway. “How was your business trip?”
“Lucrative,” he squeezes me once before stepping away. “The Californians agreed to a loan. We should have more than enough to arm and supply our men if war breaks out.”
“Right,” I bite my lip. “And that’s still the plan, then?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not like you’ve made any progress convincing him to back down.”
I shrug him off. “Like I said, I’ve not seen the Guild in days. You don’t think they’ve given up?”
He snorts. “More like a tactical retreat. I paid Vitale a visit the other day.”
I blink for a moment, my mouth going dry. “You saw him? What did he say?”
If Leon notices the note of desperation in my voice, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he opts to rub at his neck, wincing in pain as something clicks sharply.
“Sleep funny?”
He grimaces. “Something like that. I told Vitale to stop working on the casino, which riled him up a bit. He should be distracted by construction until we’re ready to strike.”
I stand a little taller. “I think you should give me one last chance.”
“How many last chances have I given you already?” he snaps back.
“I’m wearing him down, Leon. I know I am. At the bar the other day, he?—”
“The bar?” Leon glares at me. “You mean there was an incident after he infiltrated my goddamn poker table?”
Damn it. “There was an opportunity, and I took it.”
Leon looks like he might hit something. “I am doing everything in my power to keep you safe, Issy. I can’t do that if you keep defying my orders.”
“I took the initiative.”
“You acted impulsively and without backup. That was reckless. ”
I glare at him, and he glares right back.
“Mom wouldn’t think so,” I retort.
This is undoubtedly the worst thing to say. His expression darkens, containing that dull anger that has existed within him for years. “She doesn’t value your life enough to care. Not as I do.”
“She is our mother.”
“She is a machine, Issy,” he counters, exasperated. “And you’re just another cog in her schemes. I don’t like the way she uses you. I never have.”
“Then why don’t you just sell her out to the Guild and be done with it!”
The words hang in the air between us like a guillotine.
Finally, Leon sits. Exhausted. “Because it would kill you too.”
I have no words for that, so I turn on my heel and leave.
Ida Natali was never one to shy away from nice things.
In the months since my last visit, the safe house has become a shrine to overindulgence. The simple two-bedroom home in the suburbs now has, inexplicably, a conservatory extension at the back, as well as a maid to greet me at the door.
“ Bambina!” My mother throws her arms wide as I’m escorted into the lounge.
Minimal, hideously expensive decor now graces every corner of the room. A large painting covers an entire wall, casting the space in tasteful cubism, and a single sheepskin rug attempts to stave off the cold of the matte grey floors.
Unlike Leon, her embrace is more than welcome. Dressed to perfection, even in loungewear, my mother holds me with the utmost care, as if I might break if she holds on too hard.
“What happened to lying low?” I tease as I pull away, gesturing to the maid and the extravagant changes to what was supposed to be an inconspicuous space.
“Willy next door is an architect,” Mother explains as she gestures for me to follow her into the kitchen. “I had him change a few things for me.”
I try my best not to roll my eyes at this. Of course, Mother managed to wrangle a man to do her bidding. We might be out in the sticks, but that’s never stopped her before.
“Can I get you a drink, my darling?”
I accept a bottle of water before wandering over to sit on her couch. The smooth leather barely dents under my weight. “I take it this isn’t from Anthropologie . ”
Ida tuts as she takes her seat in the armchair opposite. “It could be.”
“Leon will cut your stipend if you keep this up,” I warn her.
“What Leon doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she brushes me off. “How is my son?”
I cringe a little. “As stubborn as ever.”
“Still intent on taking out the Guild?”
I nod and take a sip of water, unwilling to relive our last disastrous conversation.
Mother sighs. “You know, I thought I would be happy for this day to come. After the Vitales murdered my parents, robbing you of your grandparents and my inheritance, I thought of nothing but revenge.”
I put the bottle down. “You don’t talk about it much.”
“I suppose it’s always been quite painful.” She crosses her legs. “Back then, I was barely your age. I’d lived in those casinos all my life. Then, one day, it was all gone. The Vitales took charge of the Prince’s Hand, and I was left with nothing.”
“But you got it back,” I supply, trying to ignore the pang of sympathy that echoes through me. Not for my mother but for Teo , who experienced the same thing in reverse.
Was history always so doomed to repeat itself?
“I did.” She smiles sadly. “Your father was good enough to agree to meet with them to negotiate a peaceful handover. We never expected the ambush or for the Vitales to be so bold as to set fire to their own home with us inside.”
“That was their mistake.”
“No, the mistake was mine.” My mother gives me a long look. “The don and his wife perished that night. But if I had only the foresight to clean up the loose ends, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”
It takes a moment for me to realize what she’s implying. “Teo was barely a teenager, Mamma . You can’t blame yourself for not killing him, too.”
“I would have done it. For you, bambina, I would have.”
I swallow thickly, trying so very hard not to think about it. “I’m glad that you didn’t.”
She shakes her head. “Now you are having to deal with my mistakes. Has he approached you again?”
I carefully place my bottle on the side. “He has been…monitoring me.”
“Stalking you?”
“I suppose you could call it that.”
She hums thoughtfully. “And has he found anything of note?”
“His behavior has been erratic, if that’s what you mean,” I supply. At her gentle nod of encouragement, I tell her everything. Everything that happened after the wedding, the meeting at Eleven , the incident at the gym, the poker game, the cartel at the bar.
As I spin my tale, my mother seems to relax more. That knowing smile on her lips broadens with every recollection of our touches, kisses, almost-somethings.
By the time I’m finished, my bottle is empty, and the sun is setting outside the conservatory window.
“Well, bambina, you have been busy,” Ida offers as I recline back into my seat.
“He’s pulled back now, though. I haven’t heard from him in weeks,” I explain, somewhat bitterly.
“What is it again? About how absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
“Mamma.”
She laughs. “I wouldn’t worry. I daresay you already have him wrapped around your finger.”
I flinch slightly at that. I’d thought about it, theoretically. I’d attempted to prove it. But somehow, I still struggle to believe it entirely.
Perhaps it’s because whenever I’m with him, I don’t feel like I’m in control. It feels like pure chaos. Whatever moves are made to one-up the other are countered in the blink of an eye. Whatever plans I make to overpower him are met with a knife.
If I have Teo Vitale wrapped around my finger, he certainly has me tangled in his, too. We are stuck in a stalemate. I won’t give up my mother, and he will not kill me.
Though I’ve confessed most of my sins, it is this fact that I withhold from my mother. For some reason, it’s the shame I feel that finally keeps my mouth closed.
“I don’t think it matters anymore.” I change the topic. “Leon is preparing to move in a matter of days.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to move quicker,” Ida replies.
I swallow my protest. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
It’s almost as if I’ve just uttered the magic words. Mother stands triumphantly and turns toward her bookcase. “Aside from Teo, there are two other loose ends. The ex-don, Rocco Moretti, and by extension, his new wife.”
I frown at this. “How are they involved?”
“If Teo were to die, they would be the ones who would attempt revenge on his behalf.”
Right. Teo had been the best man at his wedding, after all.
This would be the time to mention the others as well. Dante, the redhead, the other man who tried to break into the Prince’s Hand with him. Would any of them vow vengeance, too? How many other loose ends would there be?
Mother rifles through the books behind her, before selecting a large tome from the middle shelf. “But, if Teo were to be incapacitated, Rocco would surely end his little sabbatical to negotiate with us.”
Again, something uneasy stirs within me. “Rocco’s wife is pregnant.”
“I said negotiate, didn’t I?” Mother snaps as she opens the book, revealing a section cut out in the middle.
For a moment, we both stare at the vial of clear liquid that lies there.
“You are the only one who can get close enough to him not to arouse suspicion, bambina. ”
She picks up the vial and places it in my hand, curling my fingers over the top to keep it secure.
“What will it do?”
“Buy you enough time to bring him into our care,” she replies simply.
Despite her words and the reassurance of her tone, nothing seems to soothe the uneasiness that builds within me. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
Ida slams the empty book onto the floor. The table shakes as much as I do.
“You asked me for my help, and this is the solution.”
“I—”
“Do not disappoint me, Isabella. Don’t be useless like your brother.”